


Except Friday The 13th

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Homophobia, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 21:38:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11449551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam doesn't believe in superstitions...





	Except Friday The 13th

Sam didn't have superstitions. Really he didn't. With everything he knew about the supernatural, he figured if any of them were real he'd know it by now. Yeah, there was always some truth behind these things but it was usually witches or other normal things. So, Sam didn't believe in superstitions.

Except Friday the 13th.

***

Sam mindlessly flipped through channels on the crappy motel TV.

Dean groaned from the next bed. “Dude, are you seriously just gonna sit here all day? You know you're being ridiculous.”

“Yes Dean, I am gonna just sit here. And I'm not being ridiculous, you know why? Because every Friday the 13th for eight years something bad has happened.”

“You know superstitions aren’t real,” Dean countered.

Sam glared at him. “July 13th, 2001. I sprained my ankle. You remember?”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah and we got a three week vacation in Colorado out of it when Dad ditched you and left me to make sure you didn't break anything else.”

Sam conceded mentally that it was a net gain, but he didn't tell Dean that. “Fine, September and December 2002, I was late to the first quiz and the final of my History Before 1500 class at Stanford.” He looks at Dean waiting for response.

Dean shook his head. “You can't blame sucking at college on the date.”

“June 2003, someone stole my wallet.” Sam left out the part where it meant he couldn't buy a bus ticket to see Dean and that Dean had actually been with Cassie at the time so it didn't matter.

“Not even a year and you were already that out of practice?” Dean teased and shook his head again.

“May 2005, Jess and I had a huge fight.” Dean didn't respond to that, which is best since there is never a right answer from Dean when it comes to Jess. Sam continued, “and then October 2006, we got arrested for those murders in Saint Louis. April 2007, you got caught by that djinn. It's been getting worse! And this is the thirteenth Friday the 13th since it started. Something bad is going to happen.”

“Okay okay, calm down,” Dean soothed. “I get you’re paranoid, but how is sitting in the room gonna help? Something could just as easily happen here.”

Sam frowned, looking around the room for possible dangers.

“Look, it's 6 o'clock. Let's just go get some grub and kill some time outside this funky smelling motel room.”

Somehow while they argued about superstitions they forgot it was the night before Valentine's Day. The local diner they decided to stop at had candles and flowers at every table.

Their server gave them a sideways sneer as she showed them to their seats. “Soup of the day is tomato basil and the dessert special is brownie sundae... for two. I'll let you guys look and be back in a bit.”

Dean smiled at her. “Thanks sweetheart.”

She returned it halfheartedly and hurried away.

Dean subtly tried to smell himself. “What's her problem?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She thinks we’re gay,”

“What? Why does everyone think that? And why does it mean she gets to be a bitch?” Dean said, irritated.

Sam shrugged. “Conservative town, I guess.”

Dean’s brows pulled together in a frown before melting into a mischievous grin that made Sam's heart skip a beat. It never meant anything good.

Before Sam can ask, the server came back.

She held her pen poised over the paper of her notepad, barely looking at them. “So, what can I get you?”

Dean smiled up at her, a hint of sharpness there someone else might not even recognize. “I'll take a steak, medium rare, with mashed potatoes. Normally, I’d get it topped with peppers and onions but it's a special night if you know what I mean.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the server looked like she's going to be sick. “My boyfriend here will have the raspberry salad with grilled chicken.” Dean reached across and grabbed Sam’s hand, rubbing his thumbs across Sam's knuckles. He gave Sam a cheesy adoring look that made Sam's stomach flip flop unexpectedly. “He's always watching his figure even though I tell him he's gorgeous. Isn't he gorgeous?” He glanced at the waitress for her approval before turning back still doe eyed. “Just look at him.”

Sam couldn't help but blush under the scrutiny.

“Yeah,” the waitress said dully. “Drinks?”

Dean looked back at her. “Oh sorry, I just get lost in those beautiful eyes, you know? A cola and a water.” Dean handed the menus back. “Thanks.” His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Dean burst into laughter as soon as the server was far enough away.

Sam snatched his hand back. “What the hell, Dean?”

“What? Come on. She's such a bitch, why not have a little fun with her?” Dean was still laughing.

“Don't drag me into it.” Sam folded his arms across his chest.

“How can I not? She thinks you're my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, because you told her,” Sam hissed.

Dean apparently didn't care about Sam's discomfort, too busy focusing on his fun. “What do you think she’d do if we kissed? Probably shit herself right there.”

Sam ignored the butterflies in his stomach. It was disgust, not excitement. “We’re not kissing, Dean,” he said firmly.

“Oh come on,” Dean reached across the table to pat the side of Sam's face. “A little peck on the cheek won't kill you Sammy,”

“No.” This whole thing was making Sam confused and squirmy and it pissed him off.

“Oh fine. You’re such a prude,” Dean said, but his smirk said it wasn’t over.

The waitress brought out their food and hurried away before Dean could do anything embarrassing. But when she came back to check if everything was fine, Dean made a show of having Sam try a bite off Deans fork. Sam irritated, made Dean try a bite of salad.

“Only way I can get him to eat his vegetables,” Sam said with a smile.

Dean faked approval till the woman left.

“Ugh, dude, cruel and unusual punishment,” Dean muttered, slurping down soda.

Sam just laughed. Maybe this game was a little fun.

Dean ordered the brownie sundae and fed Sam occasional bites off his spoon whenever someone looked their way. It was too sweet for Sam though so Dean ate most of it himself.

Their server brought them the check after the bowl was practically licked clean, relief plain on her face. Dean got up and slapped a few bills down. He winked at Sam and left his coat.

They were almost at the door when the server called out. “Hey, you forgot this.”

Dean turned around with a big fake smile. “Thanks, I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached, right babe?” He jogs back to the table and grabbed his coat whispering something that makes the waitress look furious in addition to nauseous.

When he got back, Sam felt Dean’s hand on the small of his back, he thought it was to guide him out the door. He looked down to his side, intending to give him a dirty look for it. Dean at the same time was going to sneak a quick kiss on the cheek. Instead, it landed on Sam’s lips.

They stared at each other, eye to eye for a moment, before Sam remembered their audience and just went with it. He closed his eyes and grabbed the side of Dean’s jacket to pull him closer. He didn’t mean to let out a soft moan when Dean’s chest pressed warm and firm against his.

Dean took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, flicking his tongue against Sam’s lips. Sam let his hand slide under Dean coat, pulling them closer by the hip.

Someone cleared their throat loudly and Dean jumped away.

Sam stood there frozen, eyes bulging. Did he really just…? And, fuck, he’s…

“We should get going,” Dean whispered, rubbing the back of his neck and refusing to make eye contact.

“Yeah,” Sam grunted, heading for the door ignoring his cock throbbing in his jeans.

Neither of them said anything as they walked to the Impala.

Dean started the car and turned to Sam. “We could go shoot some pool, maybe make a few bucks?”

He licked his lips probably unconsciously but it drew Sam’s eyes straight to his mouth. Sam could still feel the echo of those lips against his own, almost taste it. And God, what else are those lips capable of?

Dean was still talking but Sam realized he hasn’t heard a word.

He shook himself internally. “Uh, what?”

“I said, might be safer to see a movie if you’re still worried about that Friday the 13th shit. And hey, I think the Friday the 13th remake came out today.” Dean smirks at him. “Or is that too scary for the superstitious little girl? Would I need to hold your hand?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You wish.”

Dean scoffed. “You’re the one who kissed me.”

Sam blushed and the car suddenly felt ten degrees warmer. “What?” he practically squeaked.

“I was just going for the cheek and you laid one right on me in there.”

“You tried to stick your tongue in my mouth!” Sam countered.

It was Dean’s turn to blush. “I was just going with the flow.”

“Yeah, right. Why did you have to start that shit anyway?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. I didn’t like her judging us. Why were you so opposed?”

“Uh, because you’re my brother and that’s fucked up,” Sam said like Dean was an idiot.

Sam thought he could see hurt flash in Dean’s eyes. “She didn’t know that.”

“So? We did, isn’t that enough?”

“Why are you making this such a big deal? It’s not like we’re actually dating.”

Sam fidgeted. He didn’t know why it was such a big deal. It was a stupid thing to pretend, right? It was weird. Weren’t those good enough reasons?

“Whatever, let’s just go see a movie,” Dean said when Sam didn’t answer.

The only two movies starting close to when they got there were horror flicks. Dean wanted to drag Sam to the remake of Friday the 13th just to tease him but it had only come out that day and the queue for the theater was already pretty long. Sam opted for My Bloody Valentine. Even if horror movies usually bored him to pieces, it was in 3D and he was curious about the special effects.

The theater was still pretty crowded with couples and teenagers. Dean nudged Sam when the lights went out giggling and pointing to a couple in front of them making out.

Dean aimed a popcorn kernel at them. Sam grabbed his hand to stop him.

Dean leaned over to whisper in Sam’s ear. “Aw Sammy, scared already? The previews are still playing. Don’t worry little brother, I’ll keep you safe.”

Sam’s cock twitched in interest as Dean’s lips brushed his ear. He yanked his hand away and turned to scowl at Dean. The blue light from the screen lit Dean’s face, that was only inches away. Sam could see the smattering of freckles across Dean’s nose and cheeks, the slight shine of his lips. Beautiful, his mind provided.

He pulled back and looked away. “Don’t be an ass,” he hissed.

Dean didn’t seem to take the hint. “Come on, the guy’s doing it all wrong. He looks like he’s trying to swallow her whole. She’d thank me.”

“No.” Sam grabbed the popcorn bag and put it on his other side. This only made Dean reach across Sam’s body, brushing against his chest and stomach. Sam huffed and gave him back the popcorn. “No throwing it.”

Sam made it through half the movie before he started to get bored. The special effects were interesting, making it look like he could reach out and touch the eyeball sticking out of some guys head and some of the acting was good but the story was obvious and based around annoying jump scares.

Sam started to get distracted by little things around him. He was pretty sure the couple in front of them were doing more than making out but Dean had already eaten all the popcorn. Dean kept bouncing his knee and because there was no leg room, Sam was sitting with his legs spread and Dean’s knee kept bumping against Sam’s.

Dean was pissing him off today and Sam couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just that the stupid Friday the 13th thing had him stressed out and looking for a fight. Sam tried to think about everything that had happened so far tonight. Maybe his problem was just that Dean has been too close. The fake dating thing made him all touchy and he kept talking about holding hands and shit. He was just teasing like he always did, why was it pissing Sam off so much?

“Man, that guy's good. I’ve seen possessed people less creepy,” Dean muttered.

Sam looked up a realized he’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the movie was almost over.

“Yeah,” Sam replied without thinking. They watched the last few minutes and Sam really did agree, the eye twitch and expression would make Sam think angry ghost any day.

When the credits started to roll, they headed out of the theater together.

Dean rambled on about the movie, fawning over the pretty boy main actor and griping about the over the top gore. “Blood doesn’t spray like that!”

They got in the car and Dean turned to him. “So where to Scardy Cat? Back to the motel?”

Sam shrugged.

“What’s gotten into you? The movie freak you out or something?” Dean asked. Sam could hear the hint of real worry there.

Sam met Dean’s eyes and was struck for not the first time with how impossibly green they were. All the teasing and all the bullshit, it only took one look for Sam to remember how much Dean loved him. And how much he loved Dean. They never said it directly but it was always there. 

Sam rubbed his face. He was in a weird mood. “Nah. Just tired I guess.”

“Alright,” Dean put the car in gear and started to drive off. He reached over without looking and patted Sam’s leg higher than usual. “We’ll get you to a bed.”

Sam felt a jolt of unmistakable desire. And Dean’s comment about a bed didn’t exactly help. His head was sudden;y full of fuzzy images of what him and Dean could do in a bed. His stomach lurched, in disgust and excitement. What the hell was wrong with him?

Sam was quiet, lost in his own head. He only vaguely registered that Dean took a back road, probably hoping to avoid traffic. It wasn’t until Dean interrupted his thoughts that he realized something was wrong.

“You hear that?” Dean asked.

Sam tried to focus. There was a soft rattling coming from the car. Almost like they were dragging a branch or something.

Sam frowned. “What is that?”

Dean pulled the car completely to the side of the road in front of a field. “Better not be what I think it is.” He grabbed a flashlight from the trunk before popping the hood. Sam followed.

“Damn it!” Dean yelled after one pass of the flashlight.

“So, not good?”

“No not good Sam. Very not good!” Dean snapped. “I knew I should have fixed that belt last time we were at Bobby’s but we had to leave on a case.”

“Hey look, something bad happened on Friday the 13th!” He knew he was poking a bear but Sam had to rub it in.

Dean was already on the phone getting the number to a tow company. “Very helpful,” Dean said sarcastically.

Sam was relieved though. A breakdown wasn’t so bad on his list of horrible things that could go wrong. It got a little worse though.

“The tow company doesn’t have a night crew. They say they can come get it in the morning,” Dean announced.

“So call another one,” Sam suggested.

“There are no other ones for 50 miles! And I am not driving Baby another inch. A broken serpentine belt means-”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam cut Dean off. “We’ll sleep in the car then. It’s not like we haven’t before.”

Dean groaned. “It always makes my neck sore.”

It was still too early to sleep so when they got back in the car Sam got out the deck of cards. There were no street lights and they could barely see the cards. Eventually they gave up and just stared at the stars in silence.

Sam tried to ignore the awkward tension he felt in his gut, certain it was only the weirdness of the day. His thoughts kept drifting back to Dean touches, the hand holding, the pat on the thigh, the kiss, the sweet hint of the taste of Dean’s mouth.

Their body heat kept the car warm enough at first but as the temperature dropped outside, it got colder inside. Sam shivered.

“You're gonna freeze in the backseat,” Dean commented.

“I'll be fine,” Sam muttered, pulling his jacket around him tighter.

Dean blew on his fingers. “Fine, I'll be cold, scoot closer.” He tucked his fingers under his arms and beckoned Sam closer with a nod of his head.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No.” In his current state of mind getting closer to Dean sounded like a bad idea.

“Dude, we still have at least four hours till the tow truck shows up and it's only gonna get colder. I'm not saying we need to cuddle or anything.”

Sam sighed. Dean would ask questions if he didn't go along with it. He slid over and Dean met him halfway, a warm line against Sam's side.

Sam tired to not be so aware of every inch of Dean’s body touching his own. It was bringing on some distracting thoughts and definitely not going to help him sleep.

Sam groaned internally. He had a few thoughts like this when he'd gone through puberty. He'd told himself it was normal, at least for brothers together as much as they were. He was lucky at the time he thought Dean was such an ass and resented him a little for the way he always got along with Dad.

It felt like the more he accepted this lifestyle, the more he accepted how much Dean meant to him, and the more their relationship shifted. It had changed since Dean showed up at Stanford but especially since Sam died and Dean sold his soul to bring him back. Did the kiss just make Sam realize something he had been trying to hide from himself?

He was so fucked.

Or distinctly not in this case. Not ever.

“What's going on in that big brain of yours? I can hear you thinking,” Dean said softy.

Sam didn't say anything.

“Come on, dude. You've been lost in your head since the movie. What's bugging you?” Dean prodded.

“Nothing, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Sam said sullenly.

“If there is something you don’t wanna talk about then it’s not nothing.” Dean held up his hands in surrender when Sam scowled. “Just sayin’.” Dean was quiet for a while. He glanced at his watch. “Hey, it’s after midnight. You made it through the thirteenth Friday the 13th.”

Despite himself, Sam smiled.

Dean grinned a slid closer, tucking his head against Sam’s shoulder. “Damn it’s cold.”

“I thought you said no cuddling,” Sam grouched, only half annoyed. With his recent realization, he kinda liked having Dean close to him. Though Dean didn’t need to know that.

“It’s cold, alright?” Dean grumbled and didn’t move.

Sam put his arm around Dean’s shoulders, and rubbed the top of Dean’s arm to warm him up.

“Sam…” Sam couldn’t see Dean face or place the tone of his voice.

Sam glanced down and Dean was looking up at him, their faces only inches apart... again. Dean’s eyes searched Sam’s but Sam didn’t know for what. Sam wanted to say something but his throat was suddenly closed.

“Dean,” Sam finally croaked.

Dean shifted, moving slowly closer to Sam. Sam knew what was coming this time.

“Tell me to stop, Sammy,” Dean murmured.

Sam couldn’t and had finally realized he didn’t want to. He tilted his head to better accommodate Dean slotting his lips against Sam’s own.

Dean’s lips were just as soft as they had been earlier, if a little cold, and Sam took a moment to enjoy the feel of them this time. The kiss was tentative and sweet. When Dean’s tongue flicked against his lips, Sam opened easily, welcoming the taste of him. Sam let out a short high moan, pulling Dean closer by the front of his jacket.

Dean shifted on the seat, sitting up higher. He slipped a hand into Sam’s hair at the base of his neck, using it to position Sam at slightly better angle. He deepened the kiss, an almost frantic energy settling over them.

Dean pulled back, resting his forehead against Sam’s, eyes closed and gasping. “If you don’t- Sam, we don’t have to-”

“I want this Dean. Shut up and kiss me,” Sam answered, breathless.

Dean’s mouth covered his again, hard and desperate. His hands pulled Sam’s jacket open and glided across the muscles of his chest, thumbing over his nipples and slowly creeping lower.

Sam was hard and ready for it when Dean palmed his cock through his jeans. He let out a groan that matched Dean’s, bucking up into Dean’s hand without thinking.

Dean popped the button, then paused and broke the kiss. He drew a breath to speak but Sam cut him off.

“Please, don’t stop, I swear I want this,” Dean tucked his head against Sam’s neck with a groan. Sam continued. “Or whatever you'll give me. Please Dean, I want you.”

It was like Sam had spent his whole life longing for something he didn’t he know existed and with Dean here, now, like this, it was the first time the ache had gone away. He’d been so angry earlier because deep down he knew this was the solution and was afraid of being rejected.

Dean kissed his neck and slipped his hand beneath the waistband of Sam’s boxers. Sam stopped worrying about his emotions for the moment...partially because Dean’s hand was freezing.

Sam hissed through his teeth but grabbed Dean’s shoulder when he started to pull away.

Dean kissed his way to Sam’s ear. “My mouth’s warmer,” he whispered.

Sam shivered and whimpered but not with cold. He let go of Dean’s shoulder.

Dean slid back over to his side of the car so he could bend down almost comfortably and reach Sam’s cock. Their eyes met briefly, identical anxious but excited smiles spreading across their faces. Sam nearly giggled.

Sam didn’t feel like laughing though when Dean pulled his cock out. The air was cold, making his balls want to crawl up inside him, but Dean’s breath was warm. His mouth was hot when he wrapped his lips around the head of Sam’s cock, sucking and swirling his tongue.

Sam moaned and his hand flew to the back to Dean’s head, not pushing or gripping, just resting. Dean started to bob his head, sucking Sam a little deeper each time and each tug pulled Sam a little closer to the edge. Eventually Sam could feel Dean’s throat fluttering and swallowing around his cock.

Every noise of pleasure Sam made was deafening in the blanket of silence but Sam couldn’t help it. Dean didn’t seem to mind. And the wet noise of Dean’s throat were nearly as loud but only turned Sam on more.

When Sam was getting close, Dean moved his hand from where he had tucked it between his legs to grip the base of Sam’s cock where his mouth couldn’t reach. The added stimulation was enough.

“Dean, I’m gonna-” he tried to warn but was cut off by his own groan as his orgasm ripped through him. He shot into Dean’s waiting mouth, Dean’s hand working him through it, till the muscles in his leg twitched on every stroke.

Dean sat up, grinning. Sam watched with half lidded eyes, his bones turned to jelly. Brain must have been sucked out through his cock because he finally wasn’t thinking anymore.

“That all you got, little brother?” Dean asked cheekily.

Sam’s cock twitched at the endearment and he hoped Dean didn't notice. This was fucked up enough, right? Sam never got his hopes answered.

“You like me calling you that, baby boy?” Dean leaned in to kiss at Sam neck and whisper against his skin. “You like being reminded we’re brothers when my mouth still tastes like your come, Sammy?” Dean kissed him, and Sam groaned into his mouth. He could taste his own bitter release mixed with Dean.

This shouldn’t turn him on so much but his cock was already half hard again. He hadn’t forgotten that Dean hadn’t come yet either.

“I may be the younger brother, but I’m not the little one,” he growled, pulling Dean into his lap. He ignored the protests, bumped heads and jumbled mess of limbs, manhandling Dean until he was straddling Sam.

It was much easier at this angle to undo Dean’s pants and get his cock out, gripping it firmly.

On the receiving end now, Dean seemed more nervous. “You don’t ha-”

Sam stroked Dean’s cock and Dean’s eyes fluttered shut.

“I want to,” Sam said simply.

“Mmmhmm,” Dean hummed. His hips starting a rhythm with Sam’s fist.

Watching Dean come apart above him was hotter and more beautiful that he could have ever believed possible. Dean’s perfect teeth sinking into those plump lips, the pants and deep gasps, Sam was fully hard again in no time.

He lined their cocks up together, both of them groaning at the heat and feel of it. Sam got one big hand around both of them, mostly. It was enough.

Dean buried his hands in Sam’s hair and kissed him hard, rocking into Sam’s grip. Sam matched him from underneath, so Sam’s hand didn’t have to move much.

“God, Sam,” Dean murmured, breathless against Sam’s lips. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Dean’s cock twitched beneath his fingers and spurted come over Sam’s hand and both their cocks. With Dean’s warm come slicking the way, Sam bucked his hips faster into his hand till he came a second time, Dean’s lazy kisses swallowing down his moans.

Dean let his head rest against Sam’s shoulder, neither of them had breath to speak yet.

Dean recovered first. “So uh, guess we managed to kill some time and keep warm,” Dean said sitting back and laughing. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

Sam laughed. “Yeah, guess we did. Cars gonna smell like sex tomorrow when the tow guy gets here though.”

“Heh, he’s probably seen it before.”

Dean moved back to the driver’s seat and leaned over to get some napkins from the glove compartment. He kept a couple for himself and gave the rest to Sam.

They didn’t say much as they cleaned up as best they could.

When they were all put back together and huddling in their jackets on opposite sides of the car again, Sam finally broke the silence. “So is this… are we… was this a one time thing? Or something else?”

Dean shrugged. “What do you want it to be?”

Sam gave a short laugh. “Hey, I asked you first.”

Dean smiled tightly. “It’s whatever you want, Sam.”

Sam wasn’t quite happy with that answer. “But what do you want?”

It was Dean’s turn for a short shaky laugh. “As sappy as it sounds Sam…” Dean met Sam’s eyes. “You. Whatever you’ll give me.”

Part of Sam wanted to roll his eyes at the corniness of it, but the other part…

He slid across the seat and tucked himself under Dean’s arm. He was too big for it really, but he didn’t care. “You can have everything, Dean.”

Dean kissed the top of his head. “Such a girl,” Dean murmured, squeezing him tight.

Sam scoffed. Dean had started it.

Snuggled up in the semi warm car now, they tried to get a few hours sleep. Just before Sam drifted off Dean asked a question.

“So, are thirteen Friday the 13ths enough? What happens on the next one? A normal Friday? Or a normal bad Friday?”

Sam was too tired to think worry about it now.

It turns out though, Sam never had an unlucky Friday the 13th again.


End file.
